Page 4 of A Home for Harmony (Blossoms #16)

TEENAGE DRAMA

T he garage door rose as he arrived home at the end of the day and Micah saw his daughter’s used SUV parked in her spot. He was pretty good about knowing what day it was, but it never stopped his daughter from coming over unannounced.

And he didn’t want her ever to feel as if she couldn’t.

When he opened the door to the kitchen, he smelled food and saw her standing there cooking.

“Are you just making me dinner or staying the night?”

“Both,” Scarlet said.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” He moved over to look at what was in the pan and saw the breaded chicken. There was a big pot with boiling water filled with potatoes and a frozen bag of vegetables in the microwave.

Perfect timing, which meant she’d been following him on his phone to know he left work.

That also meant teenage drama was about to ensue.

“Maybe I wanted to be here tonight,” Scarlet said.

“You’re always welcome,” he said. “Especially if you’re cooking. But I didn’t have chicken in the house.”

“I stopped and got it,” Scarlet said.

“Does Mom know where you are?”

“I said it as I slammed out the door,” his daughter said. “But she can track me too, just like you. It seems like that is all she does is follow my every move.”

“You can track me,” he said. “Those are the rules. I want to know you’re safe and you want to know I am.” He lifted an eyebrow. “It works for having dinner on the table timely too.”

Scarlet smiled.

Her hair was in some complicated ponytail he couldn’t make heads or tails of.

It actually looked like a tail with more rubber bands throughout it.

She had a fitted cotton shirt on that was too tight in his mind, but it covered her chest and went up to her collarbone.

The downside was that it stopped right at her hips, where her low-rise, baggy cargo pants began. Every time she moved, a flash of bare skin showed. He’d long since stopped arguing about it. He’d seen worse, and honestly, he had bigger battles to fight.

“It does,” Scarlet said. “The potatoes should be done.”

“Can I shower while you finish, or should I wait?”

“Go ahead,” his daughter said.

“Thanks.”

Micah went to his room, put his gun in the safe, grabbed a change of clothing, and hopped in the shower.

Not even ten minutes later, he was sitting at the table with his daughter waiting for her to tell him what happened today.

“How was your day at work?” Scarlet asked.

“What’s going on with your mother that you’re here tonight?”

“I don’t know what her problem is,” Scarlet said, her shoulders dropping in an exaggerated teenage pout. “I took one look at her when I got home from Carly’s and her RBF said it all.”

He stopped chewing his chicken. “RBF?”

“Dad,” Scarlet said, rolling her eyes. “Resting Bitch Face.”

“Scarlet,” he said firmly.

“I tried to say it without swearing,” she argued. “You’re too old to get it even when I tell you what all these things mean.”

He would never keep up.

“Thirty-eight isn’t old,” he said.

“Old enough,” Scarlet said, grinning.

“Did you ask Mom what was going on?”

“I did,” his daughter said. “Then she bit my head off, so I grabbed my keys and shouted I was coming here, and left.”

He sighed. It never ended.

“So you have no idea if something is wrong?”

“No,” Scarlet said. “You can call and ask if you want. I think it’s just hormones. Maybe she’s going through her change.”

“Don’t say that to her.” Good lord, he didn’t need to address that battle.

His ex-wife was the same age as him. Maybe she got a little testy at certain times of the month. No different from his daughter who got emotional and snappy too, but he wasn’t stupid enough to ever say that .

The last thing he needed was having the roles reversed and his daughter trashing him to her mother.

It was the one thing he worked really hard at when his marriage failed.

He couldn’t be a good husband it seemed, but he was going to try his hardest to be the best father he could.

“I wanted to,” Scarlet said. “But I didn’t. She’s probably fighting with Randy.”

Randy was his ex’s new boyfriend. Or old boyfriend. He couldn’t keep track. They’d been on and off for a year, per Scarlet.

“Whatever it is,” he said. “She knows where you are and she can call or check in with me if she wants.”

“She won’t,” Scarlet said, digging into her potatoes. “I don’t think she cares if I’m there half the time.”

“That’s not true,” he said. “Your mother loves you.”

“I know she does,” Scarlet said, grinning. “I’m a loveable person. But she still likes having the house to herself.”

He wouldn’t argue any of that because he didn’t know the truth either way.

Toward the end of their marriage, when Micah was home, Trinda left.

“You asked how my day was,” he said. “I spent an hour this morning with a young woman in my SUV while we waited on the side of the road for the tow truck to come get her car. It’d died and she was sitting in it freezing her butt off with only sweats on and no jacket.”

“Oh no,” Scarlet said, lifting her hand.

“Stop right there. I’m not in the mood for a parental lecture.

I may not wear my winter jacket, but I keep it in the car.

Right next to the emergency roadside kit you gave me when you handed over the keys.

I’ve always got water on me and protein bars in the glove box. ”

She did, because he checked those things when Scarlet passed her road test two months ago and he told her she could only get a vehicle if she followed his rules.

Mostly, she was a good kid and did what she was told.

“I’m glad to know that you listen.”

“I do. Just like I can drive better than the boys in my class. I told Luca that I could do better donuts than him. He didn’t like that.”

His shoulders dropped. “Scarlet. Don’t poke the bear. And that means boys. Teenage boys’ pride and egos are fragile.”

“So is mine,” Scarlet argued. “And you know I can do it. You taught me.”

He smirked.

Of course he did.

That was part of her driving lessons with him. If she wanted her license, she had to prove to him she could handle herself in severe conditions.

He’d taken her into parking lots with snow or when it was raining and made her drive and swerve and correct it multiple times so he knew she could handle it in any situation.

Did that mean she’d always be fine?

No, he wasn’t stupid enough to believe that.

But it meant she’d be prepared as best as she could.

“I did teach you, but you shouldn’t be bragging about your abilities. No one likes a showoff.”

“You’re no fun,” Scarlet said. “Why can’t you laugh like you did when you had me slamming on the brakes in the snow while I slid and screamed?”

He laughed this time. Just a short one.

“Because that was funny. This isn’t. And I didn’t worry there. It was a controlled environment.”

As controlled as he could get it.

“Whatever,” she said, waving her hand at him. “So you spent time with a young woman. Was she flirting with you?”

“No.”

“You should have flirted with her,” Scarlet said.

“That’s unprofessional.” There was no reason to go into details with his daughter that Harmony feared him. But at least she was cautious.

“You’re no fun,” Scarlet repeated.

The same words he’d heard from his ex for years too. Trinda always wanted him to do things that might make him look bad in his job.

Sorry, not happening.

He’d wanted to be with the state police for as long as he could remember. He wasn’t blowing it over a few beers out drinking when one of them had to drive home.

Nor would he ever risk putting someone else’s life in jeopardy.

“Because I’m an old father,” he said.

Scarlet giggled. “You are.”

“You don’t have to agree with me.”

Scarlet shrugged. “I don’t have to, but I did. Did you lecture this woman about not being prepared?”

“No. We just talked.”

“You talked?” Scarlet asked. “About what if you weren’t lecturing?”

Ouch! “I’m not that bad,” he said. “What did I say about men and their egos?”

“My father’s ego can take a hit now and again. Nothing bothers you.”

Because he never let her see that. Or tried not to.

“Sure,” he said, agreeing. “She did most of the talking. She said she did a bunch of online stuff. I’m not sure. It made me think of those videos you’re always watching of people trying to be someone they aren’t.”

“Influencers, Dad?” his daughter asked, sticking her tongue out.

“Yeah, whatever. She says she teaches businesses to do those things or people. I don’t know. I didn’t really follow.”

Because he was too busy being lost in her eyes and trying to control the feelings in his body.

Things that had been dead for years.

It wasn’t just a physical reaction. It was something deeper, something he wasn’t ready to name, let alone face.

“What’s her name?” Scarlet asked, picking up her phone that was on the table.

He put his hand up. “You know the rules.”

No phones during dinner.

“I just wanted to search her, then you could know more about her.”

“First off, I can’t give you her name. Second of all, I don’t need to know any more about her.”

Which was the truth. He didn’t need to, but maybe he wanted to.

“Like I said,” Scarlet said. “No fun.”